32

BURIED

MORNINGLEAF STUCK HER HEAD OUTSIDE THE den. “The tornado is gone,” she said to Brackentail. It had ripped across the sky, landed on the plain, and then swept through the forest, touching down near the blind where the tunnel was hidden. Inside the den the walls had shaken and dirt had fallen on Morningleaf’s head, but the storm had passed, and the cottonwood forest had burst back to life.

It was the eighth day, and they’d rescued a total of one hundred and forty pegasi. Tonight, twenty more would leave, and then forty more over the next two days. Hazelwind and Dewberry escorted the refugees to the lake many miles away to wait for the rest.

“Hazelwind and Dewberry should be back by now,” said Morningleaf, pacing in the small chamber.

“I’m sure they saw the storm and took cover,” said Brackentail.

Morningleaf halted. “You’re right. It’s just . . . we’re so close to the final day. I’m afraid everything will go wrong. Many moons of planning will be wasted.”

Brackentail pricked his ears. “No, nothing will be wasted. Remember, our true hope is in Star. The tunnel, the escape, it’s just a backup plan. He’s not going to fail. He will defeat Nightwing.”

Morningleaf met Brackentail’s gaze and relaxed. His loyalty and devotion had long ago erased her memories of the brutish colt he’d been, and Brackentail had transformed in every way. Always big and gangly for his age, he’d grown into a handsome stallion. A glossy sheen enhanced his dark-orange feathers, long brown lashes bordered his golden eyes, and his handsome, unmarked brown face had become the very trait that made him stand out among the pegasi. “I feel like my whole life has led up to this moment,” she said to him.

Brackentail snorted. “That’s because it has.”

The fluttering of giant wings caught Morningleaf’s attention and blew back her mane, but the approaching winged steed was invisible. “Star!” she whinnied.

Her best friend landed and turned visible, and she flung herself into his wings. “What’s wrong?” she asked him. “You’re shaking?”

“I don’t know, but I have a very bad feeling that none of us are safe.”

“We aren’t,” she said honestly.

“I know, but this is different. You all must leave tonight. Take the one hundred and forty steeds you’ve already rescued and go, leave Anok.”

“Did something happen?” asked Morningleaf.

Star shook his head. “Maybe it’s just the storm, but I feel like something isn’t right, and I don’t think we should wait another day. One hundred and forty is enough to start a new herd, so go.”

Morningleaf glanced at Brackentail.

“If Star feels that strongly about it, then I agree. We’ll leave now,” said Brackentail.

“Not now,” said Star. “It has to be tonight. We have one more pegasus we must rescue: Larksong. I promised Frostfire.”

Morningleaf twitched, irritated, but said, “Okay, I’ll tell my brother and Echofrost.”

“I already told her,” said Star. “In fact, she’s probably in the tunnel now on her way here.”

“We’ll meet her at the blind,” said Brackentail.

“Then this is good-bye,” said Star. He extended his wings, and the three huddled together, with Bumblewind’s absence still aching between them. “You aren’t just my friends,” said Star. “You’re my guardians.” He gazed at each of them. “No black foal can survive without help, and you two have given me . . . everything.” Star pressed his forehead against theirs and then stepped back. “Now lead the pegasi home.”

“Home?” asked Morningleaf.

Star nodded. “When I was a foal, I thought home was where you lived. When I was a yearling warrior, I thought home was where you died. But now that I’m an adult stallion, I know that home is where you love. Go find a new home on the southern continent and then spread our kind across the planet.” He arched his proud neck. “Make new legends.”

Morningleaf’s tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’ll meet us there, right?”

Star nuzzled her, not answering, and Morningleaf and Brackentail pressed against him a final time. “I have one more thing to do,” said Star. He panted, drawing up his starfire.

Morningleaf watched him, stunned as usual by the glittering power that radiated from his hide in waves of warmth. She’d been healed several times and had grown to love the sensation. She waited expectantly. Then Star opened his mouth and doused her dead black feathers with his golden light. Morningleaf spread her wings as the tendrils of starfire curled around her feathers, healing them down to their roots. With great satisfaction, she watched them grow longer and turn from charred black to shimmering aqua blue.

When he was finished, she rushed to Star’s side and wrapped her healed wings around his neck, unable to speak but radiating joy. She sniffed his mane, and it smelled like the grasses of Dawn Meadow. To her, he was home.

“Fly,” Star whispered, “and don’t look back.” His words urged Morningleaf and Brackentail into the wind. They flew fast and low, but Morningleaf, who never did as she was told, looked back.

Star waved, and she saw a waterfall of tears sliding down his cheeks and a wreath of white flowers growing around his hooves. Her heart squeezed tight. Would she ever see him again?

Then Star lifted off toward the valley, passed through a cloudbank, and disappeared.

When Morningleaf and Brackentail arrived at the tunnel, Morningleaf put her head inside and listened, feeling the same anxiety that Star had described. “Something is wrong,” she said to Brackentail.

“Shh, I hear hoofbeats coming,” he said. “Who’s there?” he neighed into the passageway.

A muffled voice answered. “It’s Echofrost. I have to get a message to Hazelwind about Frostfire and Larksong.”

“Hazelwind’s not here,” whinnied Morningleaf, “but we know about Larksong. Star told us.”

“Okay,” Echofrost huffed. “I’m alm—”

The ground rumbled, and then Morningleaf heard the heavy thud of falling dirt. Dust billowed from the entrance of the tunnel. Morningleaf and Brackentail fell backward, coughing and covered in dirt. They scrambled to their hooves and raced back to the entrance. “Echofrost!” screamed Morningleaf.

There was no answer.

Morningleaf gaped at the dark hole, which continued to shudder and exhale dust, wondering how much of the passageway had fallen. “Echofrost!”

All their hard work—and maybe Echofrost herself—was buried.

Brackentail stuck his head inside, neighing for Echofrost, but there was still no answer from her. “I’m going in,” he whinnied, and charged into the collapsing passageway.

Morningleaf rushed to follow him but halted at the entrance, her hooves rooted to the ground. “Wait,” she whispered, choking on dust. Morningleaf stared at the black tunnel, listening to it shudder, knowing it was caving in, that it was growing tighter and smaller . . . and her mind sailed back to the lava tubes where Frostfire had imprisoned her. She’d hidden in that utter blackness for days, starving and with rats crawling over her hooves. Morningleaf’s legs trembled as though she were there again.

These aren’t the lava tubes, she told herself.

But her hooves wouldn’t budge.

Then Echofrost screamed.

Morningleaf snapped back to the present and galloped into the tunnel. Dust and debris crashed around her as the tunnel crumbled. “Where are you?” she whinnied.

“We’re here!” answered Brackentail. Morningleaf reached them at a point in the passageway that was about halfway to the pond. The sky was visible above her where the land had caved in and buried most of Echofrost. “Grab a leg,” Brackentail said.

Morningleaf wrapped her wings around one front leg, and Brackentail had the other. They pulled, and Echofrost screamed again. “My back leg is caught on something, maybe a tree root.”

“We have to dig her out,” said Brackentail.

Morningleaf bit back her terror. She and Brackentail scooped dirt away from Echofrost until they discovered the thick root trapping her. Morningleaf twisted Echofrost’s leg to free it. Her friend groaned.

“I’m sorry,” said Morningleaf.

They pulled Echofrost upright. The tunnel quaked again, and more dirt slammed their backs.

“Run!” neighed Brackentail.

The three of them galloped toward the light at the forest-end of the tunnel. Echofrost limped badly, but fear kept her moving. Behind them the tunnel slammed in on itself. Field mice and snakes passed them, racing for their lives, and Morningleaf swallowed her screams. A clump of dirt smacked her tailbone—the tunnel was coming down—all of it!

The three friends burst out of the darkness just as the rest of the tunnel collapsed, closing off all escape from the valley. Morningleaf skidded to a halt, almost crashing into a dark-gray mare who stood waiting for them.

It was Petalcloud! Her Ice Warriors stood behind her with their ears pinned and their eyes triumphant.

“No!” Morningleaf cried, confused.

But it wasn’t the sight of Petalcloud that shocked Morningleaf the most; it was the stallion standing next to her.

Frostfire.

“Seize her,” said the white stallion to the Ice Warriors.

And Morningleaf knew instantly that he had betrayed them all.